


sweet dreams

by waveydnp



Series: byebye 20gayteen daily fic advent [14]
Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Dreams, M/M, No Actual Cheating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-14
Updated: 2018-12-14
Packaged: 2019-09-18 04:10:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16987800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waveydnp/pseuds/waveydnp
Summary: prompt: dan kissed a stranger





	sweet dreams

It’s not until he wakes up that he realizes it wasn’t real. Of course, that’s usually how dreams work.

Now that he’s awake he can’t rightfully say it actually felt all that real, but he knows it had in the moment. His brain is skilled at weaving a world that seems plausible while the rest of his body is unconscious. 

He hates how much he happened to enjoy this particular dream. He hates how much he wishes he could close his eyes and return to it, to the way it made him feel, floaty and warm and young.

He reaches his arm out and finds Phil’s side of the bed empty. He must be having a shower already. They have an early meeting with Martyn, hence his inability to close his eyes and return to a hazy half formed world where he could kiss a stranger and feel good about it.

He can’t even remember what face his subconscious had provided, not even when he closes his eyes. All he remembers is how it felt: new, different and yet strangely nostalgic. 

Maybe it’s how he felt the first time he kissed his first girlfriend. Or maybe it’s how he felt the first time Phil pinned him against that blue and green bed in Rawtenstall and they lost an entire evening to swapping spit.

He’s not sure. The details of the dream are already starting to fade as consciousness settles in. All he’s left with is the knowledge that he dreamed about kissing soft lips that didn’t belong to Phil, and the creeping feeling of guilt for enjoying it.

He doesn’t want to kiss a stranger. He doesn’t actually want to kiss anyone but Phil ever again. But apparently his brain hasn’t gotten the memo.

Phil comes back into the room wrapped in too many towels. “You’re not up yet?”

“I’m awake. Don’t I get points for that?”

“No, you don’t.” Phil sacrifices one of his towels to swat at Dan’s head with. “Get up, we’re already late.”

Dan yawns for good measure. “Who cares? We’re the bosses anyway.”

“Dan,” Phil admonishes. He’s smiling so Dan knows he’s not actually cross.

Dan groans and rolls over, burying his head in the pillow. “Getting up is stupid,” he grumbles into the fabric.

“Yes it is. But look, I did it. And I even showered. And shaved.”

“Yeah but… shut up,” is the best retort Dan can come up with.

“C’mon lazy ass, get up.” Phil stands and yanks the duvet off of Dan’s body.

Dan whinges and moans dramatically, curling up into a little ball and pretending not to watch as Phil drops his towels and steps into his pants.

“You have a good butt,” he says matter-of-factly.

“Thanks.” Phil probably couldn’t sound less interested if he tried. It’s nothing he hasn’t heard Dan say a million and one times. 

“It’s the only butt for me.”

Phil’s pulling on his jeans now. “What about Lewis Hamilton?”

“Well… we could share it.” Dan sits up. “Would you?”

“What, have a threesome with you and Lewis Hamilton?”

Dan nods.

“Of course. Would you have one with me and Chris Hemsworth?”

“No,” Dan says. “And I changed my mind. No Lewis Hamilton either.”

“What, why not?” Phil demands, as if the situation was actually on offer.

“Imagine how much of a fucking mess I’d be if someone else touched you.” He scoots off the edge of the bed and walks over to the wardrobe. 

“Aren’t you gonna shower?” Phil asks.

“Can’t be bothered,” Dan says, pulling out a satisfactorily black shirt. “S’just Martyn.”

“I’m gonna tell him you said that.”

Dan’s eyes go wide. “You better not.”

“Then you have to tell me why you’re being weird,” Phil says. He’s fully dressed now and rubbing lotion into his hands.

“What? I’m not.”

“Yes you are.”

Dan turns his back on Phil to find some trousers. How does he always know?

“You know when you have dreams about like, Chris Hemsworth or Ryan Gosling or whatever the fuck?”

“Yeah…” Phil says cautiously.

“Are they like… sexual?”

“Where is this going?” Phil asks. “Do I need to call my lawyer?”

“Oh fuck off.”

“I mean… yeah. Sometimes they are.”

Dan waits for the jealousy to hit but it doesn’t, really. He’d be a right hypocrite if it did. He’s had some well explicit dreamland encounters with Tilda Swinton and Evan Peters himself.

“What about like, exes?” he asks.

“Exes?”

Dan shrugs. “Or like, people you fancied in the past. Do you ever have dreams about people like that?”

“Well, yeah,” Phil says, sitting down on the edge of the bed and just watching Dan get dressed. “Don’t you?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“That’s perfectly normal,” Phil says. “They’re already in your head. Your brain recycles characters for your dreams, it’s not weird.”

“I know.”

“So why are you weird? Did you dream about shagging an ex?”

“No,” Dan says petulantly. “There was no shagging. And no exes.”

“So we _are_ talking about a dream you had, then.”

Dan huffs. “Why are you interrogating me?”

“Because I think it’s funny how worked up you’re getting.”

Dan finishes zipping up his jeans and glares at Phil. “I was feeling bad, but now I’m not.”

“Why were you feeling bad? Whatever it was was just a dream. It’s not like you can control it.”

Dan shrugs. “Doesn’t matter. You’re a dickhead and I’m not bothered.”

Phil does that pouty, puppy dog eyed thing he does when Dan’s cross that Dan finds infuriatingly adorable. “Please tell me?” He pats the spot next to him on the bed.

“We have a meeting to get to, remember?”

“Pfft, it’s just Martyn.”

Dan smirks. “Gonna tell him you said that.”

“He’d expect it coming from me,” Phil says. “Should I text him and tell him to push the meeting back by a half hour? Honestly he’ll probably just be glad for the extra sleep.”

“It’s not a big deal,” Dan says, but he sits down next to Phil and flops back to stare up at the ceiling. “It’s not even a deal at all.”

“Then why are you weird?”

“I’m not weird,” Dan insists. “You’re the one who’s bloody weird.”

Phil lies back as well and they stare at the ceiling together. “You’re weird. I can tell when you’re weird. I don’t understand why you still think you can hide from me.”

Dan sighs. “You’re so fucking annoying.”

“Mhm.”

“I’m just overthinking things.”

“As you do,” Phil says.

Dan kicks out at Phil’s foot.

“Did you have a dream about tentacles?” Phil asks. “Because you know I already know about that one.”

“It wasn’t kinky,” Dan says defensively. “It was just kissing.”

“Kissing tentacles?”

“No, idiot, kissing a girl,” Dan says bluntly.

“Ah. So that’s why you’re weird.”

“Stop saying I’m weird. I’m not weird, I’m just… thinking.”

“You’re thinking not nice things,” Phil says gently. “Right?”

“I just… I don’t like that my brain can have thoughts that I don’t understand. Like, I’ve already spent my whole adult life trying to come to terms with all the ways my brain fucks me over, you know? And working on techniques to change my thought patterns and stuff. At least when I’m awake I can control my reaction.”

Phil frowns. “You think having dreams about kissing girls is your brain fucking you over?”

“I mean… I dunno.”

“You can’t honestly tell me this is the first time it’s happened.”

Dan brings his thumb up to his mouth and fits his nail between his teeth before remembering he doesn’t do that anymore. He has control over that now. He slaps his hand down onto his thigh in frustration. “Of course not.”

“So why is it bothering you now?” Phil asks. “Is it because it was a girl and not a guy?”

Dan shrugs.

“Do you miss kissing girls?” Phil asks gently.

“Do you?” Dan spits back. He’s supposed to have control over this too, the urge to lash out when he can’t catch up to his own emotions.

“No.” Phil is so calm. So patient. Not always, but he’s learned control too. He’s learned how to control the frustration of Dan being a little bit mean sometimes. “I never really enjoyed kissing girls.”

“I know,” Dan says, reaching over and giving Phil’s hand a brief squeeze. That touch holds the apology Dan can’t give with words at the moment. 

“Who was it?” 

“That’s the thing,” Dan says. “I don’t know. It was no one. Just a random stranger. I don’t even remember what she looked like.”

“Was it nice?”

Dan turns his head on the duvet to look at Phil properly. “Yeah.”

“Do you feel guilty?”

Dan nods.

“More guilty than if it was an ex?”

Dan huffs, frustration surging again. “I don’t know.”

Phil rolls over suddenly so that he’s laid half on top of Dan’s chest. “Would it make you feel better to know that I’m not jealous?”

Dan lifts his head up slightly to plant a quick kiss on the side of Phil’s mouth. “Maybe a little.”

“And I won’t be upset if you say you miss kissing girls.”

“I don’t,” Dan insists. “Not really. Like I wouldn’t wanna actually go out and do that in real life.”

“But in dreams it’s nice,” Phil offers.

Dan nods.

“You don’t have to feel bad about that, babe. I have dreams like that all the bloody time.”

Dan frowns. “See that _does_ make me a little jealous.”

Phil grins. “I know.”

Dan rolls his eyes. “My therapist says jealousy is toxic in a relationship and I try to tell her you actually like it and she doesn’t believe me.”

“I probably shouldn’t like it,” Phil agrees. 

“I’m working on it.”

“I know.” Phil leans down and bites Dan’s chin. “You know dreams don’t mean anything.”

“I know that’s not what you think,” Dan argues. “It’s not even what I think.”

“Ok, well, it’s not that they don’t mean anything. I mean, sometimes they really don’t. Like sometimes I have a pineapple for a head and I’m riding a lion-sized goose down the street. That doesn’t mean anything.”

“It means you’re a freak,” Dan says.

“Shut up. I’m saying that sometimes maybe dreams mean something, but it doesn’t mean it’s something you _want_. Sometimes it’s something you’re afraid of. Sometimes it’s just recycled and jumbled up memories or like, snapshots from a film you watched that day. Sometimes it’s just hormones. You can’t beat yourself up for what mess of stuff your subconscious decides to play for you when you’re sleeping.”

Dan rolls his eyes. “I hate it when you try to be all wise at me.”

“I’m trying to make you feel better.”

“I know.”

“Do you feel better?” Phil asks.

“I dunno,” Dan grumbles. “I don’t even know why I feel bad in the first place.”

“Maybe your brain is sending a message to me that I haven’t been kissing you enough.” He leans down and kisses Dan with surprising depth.

Five minutes later they’re still laid there, fully dressed and proper making out. They’re startled apart when Phil’s phone starts ringing.

“Shit,” he mutters. “It’s Martyn. We really have to go.” He tries to get up but Dan grabs him and pulls him in for one more kiss. 

“C’mon,” Phil says through a laugh. 

“I hope I have a dream about a random stranger lady giving me a world class blowjob tonight,” Dan says as he follows Phil up off the bed. 

“Don’t get greedy, Howell.”


End file.
